


Until Next We Meet

by littleotter73



Series: The Salutation Series [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:37:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2739467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleotter73/pseuds/littleotter73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Chosen. This is the sequel to All We Ever Do Is Say Goodbye. Takes place eight months later. Buffy decides to visit Giles at his home outside of Bath. As they become closer, the nature of their relationship changes, but Giles harbors a secret that could tear them apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until Next We Meet

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: il_mio_capitano  
> A/N: There will be a third story in this series, so please stay tuned.

Until Next We Meet

 

Pulling the note from her pocket, Buffy carefully unfolded it and read through the message again. The five inch by three inch rectangle was well worn in her hands, having been folded and unfolded and stuffed into her pockets too many times for her to remember anymore. The paper had been of surprisingly good quality considering it was stationary from a cheap motel in the middle of the desert, but it was now pliable and almost felt like soft cotton with an added element of fragility to it. And even though she had memorized every word, she only felt connected to the writer when she could trace the ornate letters that made up those words.

_Buffy,_

_I am sorry I must leave. I promise I will do what I can to help with the next stage. Don_ ' _t hesitate to ask for anything._

_Until next we meet._

_Yours always,_

_Giles_

Beneath he had written his address and two phone numbers, one being his cell.

Buffy had always felt adrift without her Watcher in her life, and while there had been times where it had been absolute misery without him there to guide and support her, her reasons for missing him were different this time. It wasn’t guidance she needed, or his strength, it was more. Folding the note and protectively placing it back into her back pocket, she sighed and looked out the bus window, watching the countryside pass by. The trees were barren and the green grasses and bountiful fields of the West Country in summer had given way to the dun colors of winter a while ago, tawny and barren beneath the hard frost. Heavy, grey, menacing clouds loomed above, heralding foul weather ahead. There had been predictions of a wintery mix, but so far the precipitation had held off. Feeling the cold radiate through the window on the coach, Buffy pulled the edges of her coat together to keep in the warmth, unaccustomed to the winter chill.

Hers had already been a long journey with many legs, but there were only a few more miles left to go. When the bus finally pulled up to her stop, the driver shouted for her and she gathered her bags and dragged them to the front before alighting to the left - a disconcerting difference from her American experience. A harsh wind rose over the top of the hill, blowing straight through her, and she struggled for breath as the bus started off again down the road. Taking a moment to get her bearings, Buffy consulted her little map before heading west. A few hundred feet down the road, the rain began to fall and with it, a mix of ice crystals and tiny snowflakes, and she stopped to adjust her scarf and pull the hood of her wool coat over her head to protect her from the elements before starting forth again.

The village was much smaller than Buffy had expected, with its narrow streets and rows of semi-detached houses. She passed by a newspaper shop and a small convenience store and thought about stopping to pick up a bottle of wine or something to present to her Watcher as a gift for barging in on him, but she was already carrying far too much and the shopkeeper probably wouldn’t appreciate her navigating the narrow aisles carrying a large rucksack on her back and trailing an oversized suitcase behind her. Besides, she still had issues differentiating the bills and coins when trying to make a transaction. It was frustrating. She was so far out of her element, having left the security of the States behind her for the first time, but she needed to see Giles again.

As Buffy drew closer to her destination, the streets widened a little with trees and hedges lining both sides. The neighborhood was a bit more affluent, marked by the lack of commercial establishments and the appearance of detached houses built on larger plots of land.

With a gust of wind, the wintery mix changed over to all snow. Real snow. Of the heavy fat flake variety. And it started to quickly accumulate on the frozen ground. She reached out and captured a couple flakes on her fingers and held them up for inspection. A small smile played across her lips as she could see distinct differences in the crystalline patterns. While she was stopped, she pulled out the note again, bending at the waist a little to keep it safe and dry. She double checked Giles’ address even though knew it by heart, her insecurities at seeing him again rising to the surface. How embarrassing would it be to show up on the wrong doorstep!

After about half a mile, Buffy finally turned onto the lane that led to his house, counting the house numbers as she walked until her eyes were drawn to an old grey stone building with its large glass windows, sitting back and away off the street behind a matching grey stone wall. It seemed remarkable that after six months all that stood between her seeing him again was about fifty yards.

The wind picked up and the snow came down harder and Buffy reached into her back pocket to touch her talisman again before taking a deep breath and making her way up the drive. She was ready. Ready to see Giles again… and ready to be out of the cold. Despite her winter coat and scarf, the chill cut through her, and though she was wearing functional boots, they were not meant for inclement weather and she couldn’t remember when she last felt her toes since touching down at Heathrow.

There was a part of her that was hesitant to knock on the door. What do you say to someone you last saw walking out on you after a night of really hot sex - a night of comfort between friends? But she had come this far and common sense won out over momentary indecisiveness. Pulling her hand out from her coat pocket, Buffy rapped her knuckles against the heavy wood, shivering and stamping her feet against the frigid air, waiting for her Watcher, but there was no answer and she knocked harder and louder a second time.

She waited a few moments longer than was required before searching her backpack and finding a key. Giles had placed it within the note he had left for her on the nightstand. It fit perfectly in the lock and she brushed the snow from her coat and kicked the last of the wintery slush off her boots before crossing the threshold and calling out, “Hello? Giles?” just in case he was home, but hadn’t heard her knocking. She wouldn’t put it past him if he was deep in research mode.

The house was dark and, while much warmer than the outside, wasn’t warm enough and she wondered if he’d been home recently or whether her timing was off and he was traveling. She knew he had been working with the remaining members of the old Council, trying to forge a partnership with the new Slayer organization she was building with the help of Xander, Willow, and the others. Dropping her bags just clear of the entry way, Buffy removed her wet coat and boots and went hunting for something to warm her up.

She studied the cupboards in the kitchen quickly before deciding to open one, finding the tin of tea on the first try and smiling smugly to herself. Once the tea was made, she poured it in his well loved green mug from Sunnydale that she had spotted in the drying rack, and wrapped her hands around the mug for warmth before beginning her exploration of the house.

The first room she came across was his study. The colors and the wood were of warm neutral tones, different than his home in Sunnydale, and natural light streamed into the room from the great window. His desk chair was wooden, with ornate carvings and a high back, upholstered in a fine dark burgundy leather. It looked inviting and after a long journey that culminated in a trek through an unfamiliar village in the rain and snow, Buffy placed the mug on the desk and flopped unceremoniously into the chair.

She continued to look around the room, noting the differences. His dragonfly lamp that was so at home in his apartment in Sunnydale would look tacky and out of place here in his study and she wondered if he had kept it and placed it elsewhere in the house or had it sold in the garage sale that Anya had held for him. Her eyes returned to the heavy wooden desk before her. He’d been researching. There were three ancient tomes carefully placed to the right hand side. She smiled, he’d finished the research then as he always placed the unread ones to his left, within easy grasp of his dominant hand.

After taking a sip of her tea to ward off the chill, she noticed that off to the left hand side was his day planner. Curiosity got the better of her and she opened it to see if it might tell her what he was currently up to. Apparently he’d gone into London for a meeting with a client, and while there was nothing on his agenda for the next few days, she wondered if he would be staying in the city or whether he would come home afterwards. Feeling a bit like an intruder, she hoped for the latter, not wanting to take advantage of his hospitality while he was away.

Buffy yawned as she finished her tea. The long journey and the dreariness of the day were catching up with her. She made a decision to shake off her fatigue and get up to explore the rest of the main floor. With any luck, she’d be able to find the thermostat to turn up the central heating… or perhaps just turn it on. She could swear that it had gotten colder in the house since she arrived. As she entered the living room, she looked out the window. It faced the countryside and the snow now blanketed the fields and the hills with no sign of stopping.

“Wintery mix, my ass,” she muttered. As she watched the flakes come down harder, she hoped that Giles would make it home before things got too messy on the roads.

Unable to stave off her need for sleep any longer, Buffy yawned again and decided that a nap was in order. She eyed the sofa, noting the suitability of it, not wanting to intrude on Giles’ privacy by exploring the bedrooms on the second floor before he came home. There was a beautiful handmade quilt thrown over the back of the couch and she covered herself with it as she lay down. Her eyes closed before her head hit the throw pillow.

—————

When she woke, the room was dark with the exception of a roaring fire burning in the fireplace. The resin within the wood snapped and popped with great enthusiasm and she sat up and shrugged off the quilt before stretching and standing up. Making her way past the window, she stopped a moment and looked out. She couldn’t see far, but the snow still fell, albeit at a gentler pace than before, and it covered pretty much everything before her.

The smell of something rich and savory hit her nostrils as Buffy reentered the kitchen. Leaning against the doorframe, she watched Giles pull out a reheated loaf of bread from the oven before turning his attention to a saucepan on the stove. It was very domestic and she felt a pang of nostalgia for those times in the past when he would cook something for her after a late night patrol.

“Smells great,” she said, pushing away from the door and shoving her hands into her jeans pockets.

He looked up and gave her a gentle smile, “There isn’t much, I’m afraid. Leftovers. I wasn’t expecting company.”

“I hope I am not intruding,” she said a little shyly, returning his smile and maintaining eye contact.

“Of course not. You know you are always welcome.” He then turned back to the stove and ladled the stew into two bowls before placing them on the kitchen table. “There is butter in the fridge to go along with the bread, if you’d be so kind.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

Giles poured Buffy a glass of Pinot Noir and they tucked into their stew and bread in silence until he finally cleared his throat.

“So, erm, how have you been?”

“You know… busy,” she answered before taking another spoonful of the stew. He eyed her across the table and then ripped another chunk from the loaf of bread and dunked it into his bowl. It unnerved Buffy that he could be content with an answer like that. To not ask her to elaborate like so many of her friends and acquaintances would. “Thankfully Dawn is settled at the prep school Dad is paying for. That’s one thing I don’t have to worry about.”

Giles set down his chunk of bread, his mouth set in a grim line. “She should be surrounded by her friends and family, not shipped off to some boarding school to fend for herself.” His tone was rough and emotional. “But then, it’s not my place to have a say.”

Buffy tried to search his eyes, but he had returned to his gaze to his dinner. Gently as she could, she explained, “It’s what _she_ wanted, Giles. Dad would have been perfectly happy to have her stay in LA with him and I would have been thrilled to have her live with me and Willow in New York, but she wanted to be someplace with kids her own age, someplace away from… all the supernatural stuff.”

“Is she happy?”

“Yeah, she seems so. It’s co-ed, so she’s happy with that. She wouldn’t allow Dad to look at any ‘proto-nunneries.’” That got a chuckle out of him and she smiled. “And her grades are really high, especially in history and Latin. Who knows. Maybe she’ll turn out to be famous professor at a top university and provide me with lots of nieces and nephews to spoil… something normal… for her… never mind. It’s a nice dream.” She added the last sentence a bit hastily and reached for her wine glass as she felt Giles’ eyes bore into her.

“How’s Robson working out?” he questioned smoothly, changing the topic of conversation.

Buffy let out a huge sigh. “Robin Wood isn’t his biggest fan. They bump heads so often and it takes so much of my energy to keep the peace. Sometimes it's hard to tell them apart from soul sucking vampires, to be honest.”

“As bad as that?”

“Worse.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“Hide here until it blows over… or they kill each other.” A smile cracked on her lips and her eyes shone. “Seriously, I think Robin needs to be reassigned to the field. He could be a great administrator someday, but not now, he’s too restless. The desk job is frustrating him. As for Robson, I’m not quite sure. He cares about the Slayers and wants to do the right thing by them, but he has a hard time thinking outside the old Council box. Maybe I’ll have him rewrite the Slayers’ Handbook. I finally read that misogynistic piece of shit.”

“It is rather bracing, isn’t it?”

“Thanks for sparing me that.” They shared a tight smile between them.

“Had I not, you might have staked me. As it was, I think you were contemplating it the day we met.” Eyeing her empty bowl, Giles asked, “There is a little stew left, but not enough to save. Would you like it?”

“No, thank you. It was very hearty and very tasty, but now I am a _very_ stuffed Slayer.” She grabbed his empty bowl from him, stacked it on top of the rest of the dishes, and carried them over to the sink.

They cleaned up the kitchen together and as she dried the saucepan, she asked, “I’m going to need someone to help me once I reassign Robin and Robson, Giles.” He placed the pan down and turned to look at her. “I was hoping that person might be you.”

He stepped back and pulled his glasses off, wiping them on the dishtowel.

Sensing his discomfort, Buffy apologized, “I’m sorry, it’s only been twenty minutes and we’ve been talking about me and my problems the entire time. Giles, how are you? Seriously.”

Walking back over to the table, Giles refilled their glasses. “Shall we go sit in the lounge? I’ll need to stoke the fire, I am sure.”

She took her glass from him and led the way down the hall to the living room. Placing her wine down on the coffee table, she took a moment to fold the quilt and place it back on the back of the couch while Giles tended to the fire.

“As you know, things have been rather busy on my end as well,” he finally answered, sitting himself on the couch and crossing one leg over the other.

She knew well that had been the case. He’d been instrumental in freeing Council funds and aligning its resources and limited manpower with the new organization. It hadn’t been easy as he’d met with opposition from the old guard survivors, but in the end, common sense had prevailed when the younger generation had allied with him. After all, what was the Council without Slayers to support?

“We wouldn’t be where we are without you, Giles, you know that,” she said sincerely. “Thank you.”

“It was the least I could do,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand and took a sip of wine.

Shifting her body to face him, Buffy asked, “I saw you were researching something when I checked out your study. Anything I should be worried about?” It was safer ground. Giles seemed reluctant to talk about Council or Slayer matters and she didn’t quite understand why.

“Oh… the tomes on my desk. No, no. I, uh, I consult with the British Museum from time to time when they come across an unfamiliar artifact or an unexpected one,” he explained. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Well, that’s good. I _really_ don’t really feel like averting an apocalypse at the moment,” she joked.

“No, I think we’ve had our share of apocalypses, at least for a while,” Giles agreed. Nodding towards her empty glass, he asked, “More wine?”

“I thought we finished the bottle?”

“I have another.”

“Sure.”

While he was in the kitchen, Buffy took the initiative to tend the waning fire and added another log. She watched as the flames leapt to the new wood and started to burn, almost losing herself to their hypnotic dance, but something was off. Giles was so formal with her, and she hadn’t even gone to hug him when she first made her presence known, uncertain in where they stood with one another.

“Ah, good idea,” Giles praised as he entered the room and poured the wine into the glasses. “It is considerably colder elsewhere in the house.” He shivered for effect as he placed the new bottle of wine on the table.

Standing up, Buffy walked over to him and put her arms around his waist and drew him close. “Let’s not start off on the wrong foot again, Giles.”

He was hesitant at first, but then wrapped his arms around her as she snuggled into his chest. She felt him further relax when she prolonged the embrace, and he rested his cheek against her crown.

“I missed you,” she whispered as she lifted her head to look at him.

He raised his left hand and gently caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, his eyes glowing dark green in the firelight, and she turned her head towards his hand and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles, unable to resist his pull.

Giles drew in a sharp breath as his body tensed and she raised her eyes to his, finding a battle waging within, but he uncurled his fingers and cupped her cheek in his hand before moving it to the nape of her neck and gently drawing her lips to his. The kisses started out light and soft, and as the little sighs and moans of pleasure escaped between them, they fueled their need for more, igniting their passions. Threading the fingers of his right hand through her hair, he held her head between both hands and applied more pressure, finally coaxing her mouth open and desperately tangling his tongue with hers.

Setting fire to her senses, Giles had sparked a whirlwind of emotions within her. Buffy had told herself her visit was one to reconnect, to repair the damage that had been done over the years, and to eventually ask him to work with her again, but her body and her heart had betrayed her, had given in to the physical and emotional need to be with him that had plagued her since he’d shown up on her doorstep with the three slayers in training and finally culminated in the fiery passion they’d shared in that dingy motel in the desert after defeating the First. When he’d closed the door behind him early the following morning, it had hurt like hell and she’d felt his loss keenly. She hadn’t understood the need driving her to be with him then. She’d thought it had been a Watcher/Slayer thing, a reaction the enforced absence of his presence in her life, but she’d had time to reflect these past few months, and she thought she understood now.

As she fervently returned his kisses, Buffy’s hands roamed his back, shoulders, and torso, tracing the lines and curves of the muscles beneath his oxford shirt, replacing the fading memories with a new, intense reality. He was deceptively strong beneath his clothes and her patience gave way to want, and she pulled his shirt tails from his slacks, letting out a contented sigh as she ran her hands up over his middle to his chest, threading her fingers through the crisp chest hair.

A guttural sound escaped from the back of his throat at her touch, and Giles abruptly ended the kiss. He pulled her closer to him and nestled his head in the crook of her shoulder. “Buffy,” he gasped against her neck. His voice was full of dichotomy: of need, want, and lust, and of uncertainty, self doubt, and fear.

“It’s okay, Giles,” she answered quietly, gasping for breath as she held him tightly to her, willing him to continue, but understanding if he didn’t. They’d never talked of that night. In fact, they had rarely talked at all outside business matters. It had all been too… strange, and so things had been left unresolved.

The moment of hesitation over, he nuzzled his nose beneath her ear before he started to nip and suck his way down to the collar of her sweater. “My blood burns for you,” he whispered as his lips captured hers again, his tongue reacquainting itself with hers.

“Jesus, Giles,” Buffy murmured as he squeezed her bottom and pulled her flush against his body. She could feel how turned on he was, his erection insistent and strong, pressing firmly against her belly through his suit trousers. She wanted to touch him, to free him, and as she started to unbuckle his belt, she slowly walked him backwards towards the sofa, playfully kissing and teasing his mouth with her teeth and tongue. When the back of his legs met the couch, she changed her focus to his waist, deftly making short work of the button and drawing the zipper down. His trousers fell to the ground and her eyes fell to the large bulge in his shorts.

“Looks uncomfortable,” she mused as she pushed her fingers into the waistband of his underwear and grabbed his rear.

“Touch me,” he begged in a raspy whisper, his green eyes pleading with hers. “I need-“

Buffy pushed up on her tip toes and crushed her lips to his before carefully shoving his shorts down and teasing his hard shaft with her fingertips. When she grasped his erection in her hand and gently squeezed him, he jerked his head back and groaned, thrusting into it.

“Sit, Giles.” Her voice was husky and commanding, and he did as he was told, taking her hands in his, trying to pull her down onto his lap, but she pulled back and lowered herself to her knees. When she was settled between his legs, she kissed the knuckles of his left hand before lightly running her fingers up his strong thighs.

Her gaze fell on his fully erect penis and she circled the base with her right hand, running her tongue along the pulsing vein underneath the shaft. He let out an involuntary moan and bucked when she licked and gently nipped at the head as she started to stroke him. As she continued to tease him, she used her free hand to massage his balls through the heavy sac.

Giles’ breathing shallowed, and he grunted and groaned as Buffy nibbled, teased, and tongued him. When she finally took him into her mouth, he cried out and fisted his hand in her hair. Raising her eyes, she watched him watch her, his intense green gaze transfixed on her mouth while she stroked and sucked his cock as he slowly succumbed to desire and submission.

It was breathtaking, seeing someone usually so in control unravel… and all because of her. The power she had over him increased her desire and she moaned in the back of her throat.

“Oh god, that is divine!” he managed, finding his voice, letting his head fall back against the top of the sofa.

His little whimpers and grunts excited her and spurred her on, changing angles and pacing, and she could feel the muscles in his thighs tremble as he continued to come apart beneath her. She knew he was holding on to the last vestiges of his control and smiled inwardly, taking him deeper into her throat.

“Christ!” He roared. “I can’t… going to come.”

Buffy firmly held his hips in place and watched him bite down and throw his head back as she continued to work him into a frenzy, the muscles in his jaw and neck tense and taut with exertion until his body shuddered and he bucked wildly as he shattered beneath the force of his orgasm.

When she finally released him, he immediately reached for her shoulders and pulled her up onto his lap, crashing his lips down on hers, his tongue invading her mouth as he took her in a carnal kiss - and as quickly as it happened, he released her, desperately drawing air into his lungs, his breathing irregular and shallow as he wrapped his arms tightly around her and rested his forehead on her shoulder, trying to normalize his breathing pattern.

She held him as he recovered and when he gained his wits about him again, he uttered with a slight chuckle, “You’ve wrung me inside out.”

Buffy smiled and ran her hand along the outside of his thigh. He jolted as her fingers slid over his hip, and her eyes widened in delight. With a devilish smile, she repeated the gesture and giggled when Giles shuddered again.

“Someone is _way_ sensitive,” she pronounced smugly.

“ _That_ … has always been an intense experience for me,” he confessed, the healthy flush on his cheeks turning a deeper crimson. “I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to let things… finish that way.”

A small grin tugged at the corners of her mouth as her eyes twinkled mischievously in the dying firelight. “I did.”

He ran his hand through the lock of hair that framed her face and twirled it between his fingers, an answering smile donning his handsome face. “I think, my dear Slayer, that you are quite overdressed for what I have in mind.”

“Oh yeah?”

Kissing her softly, he murmured, “Yes, I am sure of it.” He then moved her off his lap and stood up, stepping out of his trousers and shorts before holding his hand out in invitation.

Buffy took his hand. “Where are we going?”

“To bed,” Giles answered succinctly before walking over to the fireplace. He closed the metal screen, allowing the fading embers to safely die on their own, and led her through the door and up the stairs to his room in the darkness.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, Giles impatiently removed her sweater and shirt, cupping her lace covered breasts in his hands as his tongue laved one hardened nipple while he rolled the other one between his forefinger and thumb.

“God that feels so good, Giles,” she sighed.

His mouth found hers again as he reached around and unhooked her bra, drawing the straps down from her shoulders and allowing it fall to the floor. As his hands moved to her jeans, hers moved to unbutton his Oxford shirt.

They undressed each other quickly and fell into bed beneath the heavy quilts, kissing and reacquainting their bodies with one another. It hadn’t taken Giles long to recover, his thick cock pressing hard against her thigh as they undulated against each other. Rolling him onto his back, Buffy positioned herself astride his thighs and leaned over to kiss the pulse point on his neck. He extended an arm, reaching for his nightstand, but fell a few inches short.

“Drawer… condom,” he breathed.

Smiling against his skin, Buffy nipped at the carotid artery before searching the drawer for the box of condoms. She pulled a foil packet out and returned her attentions to his body, kissing her way down his chest and taking a pebbled nipple between her lips to suck on it. He hissed and arched his back beneath her and she grazed her teeth against the sensitive bud before moving on, licking and kissing her way down his body until she reached his erection. Looking up at her Watcher with a naughty grin, she ripped open the condom packet, kissed the head of his cock, and sheathed him.

Giles groaned, grabbed her hips, and tried to roll her to the left, but she kept her balance and shook her head.

“Nuh uh, Giles,” she gently admonished. “I’m on top.”

He reached up and pulled her down for a kiss as his other hand slid down her back to her buttocks, guiding her to him. Needing no further encouragement, Buffy rolled her hips and slowly took him into her warm depths.

He groaned as he involuntarily raised his head off the pillow. “Oh Christ!” he groaned. “So deep.”

“So good,” she replied before she started to rock against him.

They caressed and kissed, focusing on each other as they slowly established a rhythm, taking their time to explore and enjoy each other. His chest and shoulders felt wonderful beneath her hands and she loved the way he worshipped her body, his hands slowly and methodically gliding over her thighs and hips and up her torso to her breasts. He pulled himself up into a sitting position allowing his left hand to wander down her body to grasp her bottom, encouraging her to ride him faster as his mouth descended on her right breast, teasing her nipple with his tongue.

She wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes, allowing herself to just feel. They were so good together and he just seemed to instinctively know how to reach her, to touch her, to build her up, and make her let go of everything.

He released her nipple and his right hand snaked up to the back of her neck as he drew her towards him and kissed her deeply, his tongue invading and questing for hers, and in an instant she found herself on her back with him positioned over her, kissing his way down her throat and taking over the pace as he drove them higher and further towards their goal. She locked her legs around his waist and met his strong rhythm, breaking off the kisses as little grunts and moans took their place.

“So close,” she managed between breaths, opening her eyes. They had adjusted to the dark long ago and Buffy could see his hair stuck to his forehead and the sheen of sweat glistening on his skin and the hairs of chest. It was sexy and the smell of sex and sweat hanging in the air fueled her lust. Running her fingernails down his back, she grabbed his rear and ground against him. When he opened his eyes and she saw that he was on the verge as well, she commanded, “Hard and fast.”

He pushed himself up, supporting himself on his arms as he complied with her request. Within moments they crashed over the edge, tumbling into the abyss, and screaming their release together until they desperately reached out for the other in the aftermath, drawing each other into their arms, kissing and caressing until the tide finally passed.

In their haze, Giles must’ve covered them up because Buffy found herself nestled in his arms beneath the duvet with her head on his shoulder. “You okay?” she asked, placing a soft kiss on his chest.

“Very,” he answered in a sated murmur. “You?”

“Mmm, yeah, I’m good. Tired.”

“Goodnight, Buffy,” he said, placing a kiss on her forehead and she answered him with a gentle squeeze around his middle as she drifted off to sleep.

—————

Somewhere in the dark hour before dawn, Buffy woke to Giles’ gentle caresses as his fingers stroked her back and, once their lips found each other, they soon found themselves making love again.

The hour was much later when they woke again and the bright sun streamed through the eight inch gap in the curtains, illuminating the bedroom. Buffy looked up at Giles and gave him a wide smile. Waking up in his arms was definitely preferable to waking up to him getting ready to leave her the last time. And she had to admit that he was adorable first thing in the morning. His hair was a mess as it stood on end, but he looked well rested and very content as he held her to him. She could definitely get used to this.

“Good morning,” he said, returning her smile.

“Mmm, it is,” she responded, snuggling into his chest. “Not that I really want to get up, but where did you put my bags? I noticed they weren’t by the front door when I wandered down the hall to find you making dinner last night.”

“I put them in the guest bedroom. Two doors down on the right. I didn’t want to presume.”

She kissed his chest. “Such a gentleman,” she replied as she moved to get up.

“Getting out of bed is going to be a shock. This old house is rather draughty. My robe is on the chair.”

As she left the bed, she shivered audibly and quickly put on his robe. “You weren’t kidding. You should probably turn up the heat or invest in thicker windows or both.”

“Go. I’ll retrieve your bags and bring them in here,” Giles said as he moved to get up and shivered at the cold. “And I’ll check the central heating afterwards.

“Thanks. Or you can join me if you want.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively. “I’ll wash your back.”

“Tempting as that is, I wouldn’t want either of us to catch pneumonia. I’ll fix the thermostat and bring your bags into the bedroom. Once you’ve finished, I’ll shower.”

She pouted at him and then headed down the hall.

—————

While Giles was showering, Buffy found the linen closet and replaced the sheets with clean ones. As she brought the fitted sheet up, she banged her thigh on the open drawer of the nightstand. A metallic frame had caught her attention, but she closed the drawer and rubbed her leg and continued to make the bed. Once finished, she opened it back up and pulled the frame out, curiosity getting the better or her. Upon turning it over, she found it contained a photo of Giles and Karina.

A bittersweet smile reached the corner of her lips as she studied the picture. Giles looked happy, content. He wore a neatly pressed suit with his tie loosened, a lazy smile donning his handsome face as he looked at the woman at his side. Buffy had to admit that his wife was absolutely stunning. She was tall - in heels she almost as tall as he was - wore her naturally blonde hair long and over her shoulders, and her blue eyes sparkled as she looked at him. Karina was positively radiant. She traced her finger over the figures in the picture. They had made a striking couple.

Seeing the photo made her feel more connected to Giles, finally being able to put a face to the name of the woman who had helped him face his issues when she died stopping Glory.

“Ah,” Giles said as he entered the room, wearing only a green towel around his waist.

Without looking at him Buffy, stated, “She was beautiful.”

He sat down next to her and placed his hands in his lap. “She was.”

“You sure have a thing for the tall, stunning, supermodel type,” Buffy noted. “Okay, Ms Calendar wasn’t quite as tall, but still taller than me. And Olivia is taller than her. Us mere mortals can’t compete.”

Giles chuckled softly and took the picture frame from her and studied it. “You are quite beautiful yourself, Buffy.”

“Thank you. But I’m not tall.”

A smile graced his lips, but never reached his eyes. “No, not tall,” he agreed.

“You know, thinking on it, that’s the only picture I’ve seen of Karina. I mean, you have pictures of me and Dawn and the gang, and of people I assume are other friends and family members. I even saw an old one of you and Ethan and a few other people in your study.”

“This is the only photo I have now. It was taken the evening I proposed. We had met up with her friends Michael and Veronika for drinks before heading out to dinner. As we were leaving the pub, Veronika snapped the photo.”

“What happened to the others?”

“Oh. There was only one other, taken in front of the building where we married. I gave it to her parents when I delivered her ashes.”

Buffy placed her hand on his knee and asked, “How did that go?”

Giles placed the picture frame back in his drawer before standing up and walking over to his armoire and pulled out t-shirt and a navy crewneck sweater and began dressing himself. After he pulled on a pair of jeans, he sat back down on the bed beside her.

“Four and a half months ago, I returned Karina’s remains to her family in Poland…” His voice trailed off as he seemed to gather his thoughts. “I don’t speak Polish and her parents don’t speak a word of English, and when I showed up on their doorstep, they had no idea who I was. Apparently she hadn’t told them we’d gotten married.”

Taking his hand in hers, Buffy gently squeezed it in support. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been really awkward.”

“You have no idea. Thank goodness for the English-Polish dictionary. Once I showed them our wedding photo and explained who I was, they welcomed me with open arms, treated me like one of their own, and I… I have never felt more like an imposter in all my life.”

“Why?”

He stood and ran his hand through his still damp hair as he started pacing, clearly agitated, but she wasn’t sure as to whether it was due to the situation with his in-laws or talking about it, or a bit of both.

“I brought their daughter’s ashes home to _them_ and they were concerned for _me!_ _”_ Giles laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “I cared for her. We were good together, but…” He stopped pacing and took a deep breath before letting it out. “It was a damned stupid thing to have done.”

He walked over to the nightstand and pulled the picture out of the drawer.

“Giles?” Buffy asked as he passed by her again. “Giles, what was stupid?”

On the way out the door, he answered, “Getting married.”

Buffy sat on the bed in shock, not expecting that answer from him. Nor did she expect him to end their conversation so abruptly. After a few moments, she went to follow him, finding him in the kitchen distracting himself by making tea.

“It wasn’t your fault, Giles,” she said calmly.

“What wasn’t my fault?”

“The Bringers. The First’s objective was to dismantle the Council and destroy the Slayer line-”

“I know that!” he snapped, placing the mugs down sharply on the countertop.

Buffy jolted at his outburst. “I know it doesn’t make her loss any easier-“

“I don’t want to discuss this any further.” His voice was controlled again and he turned to stare out the window.

“Okay.” Buffy let it drop and walked over to the cupboards, looking for something to eat. “Do you have any edible cereal?” she asked, her tone neutral as she begrudgingly picked up a box of Weetabix.

“They didn’t even know… about her role in the Council. She had been the first in her family to go to university and had been recruited by the Council not long after graduation. Her parents and brothers thought she had been working for an antiquities firm in London for the last fifteen years.”

Buffy was quiet, not wanting to interrupt him for fear that he would stop. He was focused on a pair of birds that were looking for seed at the empty feeder in the garden as he spoke. If he was willing to share, she was willing to listen.

“At the funeral, I… I stood with her family. Everyone in the village showed up to say goodbye to her, and to give me their sympathy and well wishes.”

She walked over to him and put a supportive hand on his back. “Of course they did, Giles. You were her husband.”

His body stiffened at her words and he bent his head. “Yes, I was her husband.”

There was something he wasn’t saying. That she knew, but she also knew that it was no good to push him, so she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his back in support.

He placed his left hand over hers and sighed. “Why are you here, Buffy?”

“Excuse me?” she asked, letting go of him.

Giles turned to face her. He looked resigned and sad and her heart went out to him. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy your company. I just… why now?”

“You invited me, remember? You even gave me a key to your house,” she began, taking his hands in hers. “And as for ‘why now?’ It’s the first time I could get away. If you recall, I did ask you to come visit me in New York.”

He gave her an apologetic smile. “I had just returned from Poland. I needed… time.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Buffy responded sympathetically.

Reaching out, he cupped her cheek. His touch was tender and his voice was soft. “But _why_ are you here? To escape Council politics? To offer me a job? To spend our nights in bed?”

“Well, I am not averse to spending a day or two in bed,” she joked, giving him a sultry look while trying to lighten the mood. “And it does look like we are snowed in…”

Giles blushed and let out a little giggle at that, clearly allowing himself to be distracted by her antics. “Alas, the streets will have been cleared by now.”

“Well there goes that plan!” she huffed. “But on the upside, that does mean we can go get some edible cereal.”

“And run into town for some lunch, if you like.”

Buffy smiled. “Oh yes, I’d like.”

“We should leave within the half hour then. I know a nice little bistro.”

“Great! I’ll just go and get ready.”

She knew she should have answered his question, but things had been too charged emotionally and he was in no state to have the conversation she eventually wanted to have… if he really ever would be. Whatever guilt and grief he was holding on to regarding Karina was definitely holding them both back, and the least Buffy could do for his deceased wife was to help him through this ordeal just as Karina had done to help him deal with his demons concerning his Slayer’s death and his desertion shortly after her return

—————

They sat in the bistro, Buffy sipping at her coffee and Giles nursing a cup of tea, warming up after having finished their shopping excursion. They’d heard on the car radio that another storm was due to hit the southwestern part of the country, bringing more snow with it, so they’d stocked up with supplies for the coming week.

Neither spoke of how long Buffy was planning to stay and, in truth, Buffy hadn’t booked a return flight, leaving her plans open-ended.

As they waited for their food to arrive, Buffy reached out and tapped his forearm. “Penny?”

He startled at her touch, having been lost in his own world for several minutes, and stuttered, “I uh… I was thinking of you, actually.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“Good things,” he confirmed, his expression soft. “I was lamenting the weather. I was rather hoping to take you sightseeing. Maybe take a couple of days in London. It’s a shame to be cooped up so.”

“I’m sure we’ll find other ways to entertain ourselves,” Buffy responded absentmindedly. Giles sputtered, nearly choking on his tea, and she flushed a deep crimson. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant, gutter brain!”

“Sorry.”

Taking interest in her fork, her tone was one of embarrassment. “I guess that is sort of the expectation now. I mean…”

Giles shifted uncomfortably. ”I… if you… there is the spare room, Buffy, if you’d rather. I don’t want you to feel… I don’t want to assume…” he trailed off as the waitress brought them their starter of tomato soup.

Hunching her shoulders inward, Buffy sighed. Here was the crux of her dilemma. Sex with Giles was easy, uncomplicated, and so very, very much of the good. She missed him terribly, had missed him so much over the last couple years, as he breezed in and out of her life whenever there was an apocalypse to be thwarted. And she loved him. Of that she had no doubt. But the lines had become blurred after that night in the hotel room.

It had never been her intention to fall into bed with him last night. She’d wanted to take the time to explore her feelings for him. She’d known their relationship had forever changed that night in the desert, that they were more than Slayer and Watcher, mentor and student, more than friends. She also knew that in those stolen moments they had forgiven each other for the sins of the past and had finally become equals. And in those quiet hours after he had left, she’d decided that she wanted him in her life on a more permanent basis.

Looking down at her soup, Buffy took a deep breath and tried to settle her nerves. “You asked me earlier why I am here.” She slowly raised her head and boldly met his green gaze.

“Go on,” he replied quietly, setting down his spoon.

“I’m here because I miss you. It’s that simple. I hate not having you around. I meant what I’d said back in the house in Sunnydale: I _do_ want your opinion. I know I can lead these Slayers and Watchers. Don’t get me wrong, on the best of days it’s hard. Making decisions that affect an entire organization isn’t easy, but I know I am right and I know what those Slayers and Watchers need.”

“Buffy-“

“Hang on, Giles, please.” He nodded and she continued, “I’m not asking you to join the Council and take over Robin and Robson’s roles, though that would be ideal. But if you want to keep consulting for various museums and occasionally leaning on the old Council brass for me, that’s fine. Because at the end of the day, it’s you I want to talk to about stuff - the good stuff and the bad stuff. It’s you I want to bounce ideas off of, and it’s you who makes everything better just by being there and listening.”

Giles pulled his glasses off and placed them on the table. After a few moments of aggravating silence he replied woodenly, “I miss you too.”

Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry anymore. For some reason, after bearing part of her soul, his response seemed forced and empty, and the acid in the tomato soup just seemed like it would tear the lining of her stomach to shreds. She picked at the bread that had accompanied her soup.

“I was thinking of moving headquarters back to London,” she said after a while, trying to fill in the awkward lull.

“It’s a wise move, should you ultimately decide that is what you want. Despite the old headquarters building having been destroyed, there are greater resources here. You’ll have access to the old Watcher families’ private collections and other assets, such as various properties around the country.”

Giles had navigated his way back into Watcher mode. And while she was disappointed that he hadn’t added his personal opinion on the matter, he had acted as a sounding board and offered his professional advice on the matter. It was, after all, one of the things she wanted.

Buffy responded with a small smile and tried a spoonful of the soup. It was creamy and much less acidic than she had expected. Relaxing into the familiarity of their roles, she couldn’t help but tease, “Do you think you could deal with having me so close by?”

“It might give me more pleasant reasons to visit London, and on a more frequent basis.”

“Robin won’t like the move. He distrusts the old guard more than I do.”

“I dare say he has a good reason. They didn’t make his mother’s life easy, nor her Watcher’s. After her death, Crowley left the Council to raise him.”

“Yeah, he filled me in. He’d prefer to rebuild in the States. Make the break from tradition and protocol. He likes the symbolism. Robson, on the other hand, would gnaw his left foot off to end his exile in ‘The Colonies.’”

Giles laughed and finished his starter as they fell into an easy rapport for the rest of the afternoon.

—————

That evening a light snow fell ahead of the predicted storm. In his study, Giles worked on some translation project he was contracted for through the office of the Archbishop of York while Buffy sat curled up in a leather chair beneath the quilt she’d brought in from the living room, reading a very old copy of _Emma_ by Jane Austen and drinking hot cocoa spiked with peppermint schnapps. Despite the occasional draught, Buffy was quite cosy. It was the very picture of domesticity and she felt quite content. The only thing that would’ve made it better in her mind was if she were leaning against Giles on the couch in the living room with his arm around her, keeping warm by the fire.

She watched him over her book as he stretched and rolled his neck and shoulders, the intensity of his work taking a toll on him as the evening progressed. Buffy placed her book down on the side table and walked over to stand next to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. She started a light massage, rubbing the back of his neck and moving down his spine.

“God, that feels wonderful,” he moaned, setting down his fountain pen and leaning back into her hands.

“It’s late, Giles, the rest can wait until tomorrow. The weather is just going to deteriorate throughout the day,” she reasoned as she worked the knotted muscles.

“Agreed. There is plenty of time to finish this project,” he said, suppressing a yawn. She rested her hands on his shoulders and he moved his neck until the joints popped. Taking hold of her right hand, he brought it up to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the top of it. “I don’t expect anything from you, Buffy. The spare room is made up if you would rather sleep alone.”

His concern for her was touching, and her heart ached as she realized that their relationship would remain undefined for the foreseeable future. At least until he addressed the guilt surrounding his dead wife.

“Would you mind if we just held each other tonight? I really don’t want to be alone.”

He stood and took her hand in his. “Go on up and get ready for bed. I’ll make sure the house is locked up tight.”

“Don’t be long,” Buffy yawned. “You look like you are about to fall asleep on your feet.”

Chuckling softly, Giles responded, “Says the girl fighting jet lag.”

Ten minutes after Buffy had climbed into bed, Giles slipped in behind her and wrapped her in his embrace. She sighed happily and hugged him to her, lacing her fingers with his.

“Is this what you had in mind?” he whispered.

“It’s really nice,” she replied in hushed tone.

“It really is.”

Buffy rolled over and rested her head on his arm and placed her hand on his t-shirt clad chest. She missed the intimacy of skin on skin, but knew that would lead elsewhere, and she worried if she allowed that to happen, their changing relationship might never move past the physical.

Biting her lip, she tentatively asked, “Was it like this with Olivia?”

He raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Olivia?”

“Yes, Olivia.”

Clearly he had been expecting her to ask after Karina, but he and Karina had been married. She couldn’t compare her relationship with Giles to the one he had had with his wife.

“She who would show up, have sex with you, eat your food, and hang out. You know…”

He chuckled at her description and hugged her to him. “No, Olivia and I were just friends and occasional lovers when it struck her fancy. This is… more.”

Satisfied with his answer, Buffy snuggled into him and wrapped her arm around his middle and drifted off to sleep.

—————

The week passed peacefully and they’d weathered the storm, spending three days completely housebound. During that time, Giles had finished his research and, when the streets were finally passable, had a courier come to the house to pick up the manuscript and the translated passages to deliver to the Archbishop’s office.

Despite having declared a vacation before she left New York, Buffy took several calls to arbitrate a heated dispute between her two deputies concerning Faith and the Slayers guarding the Cleveland Hellmouth. In the end, she had conferenced in her sister Slayer and listened to her opinion on the matter, ultimately letting Faith decide the course of action, a solution neither man had previously considered from their desks four hundred miles away from the situation.

The sleeping situation had remained innocent since her first night there, but their actions around the house had a very domestic feel to them. They spent most of their time together, cooked together, cleaned up the kitchen together, and she’d even done a load of combined laundry. With regards to the dishes, she found that he preferred to wash and let her dry, which worked for her since she didn’t like having her hands submerged in dirty water. It had been enough that as the Slayer she frequently was covered in guts and gore and dust. She saw no reason to subject herself to dirty dish water if she didn’t have to and even teased him about buying a dishwasher because she saw no need to subject either of them to greasy, filthy dish water, but he was adamant he had no need for one, considering he lived alone and always tidied up after himself.

Buffy sprawled on the sofa in the living room beneath her quilt as the fire burned. It was their evening routine if Giles wasn’t working, which he hadn’t been for several evenings now. She contemplated Giles’ comment regarding living alone. It saddened her that he had separated himself from her and the others after sealing the Hellmouth, but she understood his need to take care of his personal business. She had just expected him to come back to the fold after having done so. Yet, here he was in some sort of self imposed exile and it bothered her.

Giles brought in her now customary cup of hot cocoa with peppermint schnapps along with his glass of scotch and sat down next to her as she moved her feet to make space for him. Once he was settled, she moved her feet back, resting her legs across his thighs and covering him with the quilt.

“I meant to tell you earlier,” Buffy started after blowing some air across her hot cocoa, trying to cool it down. “While you were out replenishing the grocery supply this morning, I let Robin and Robson know that I am moving the Council back to London.”

“So you’ve decided then.”

“Yeah. It just makes sense. It’s like you pointed out, most of the assets are here,” she reasoned. “And so are you.”

Swirling the amber liquid in the tumbler, Giles looked over his glasses at her. “Have you spoken with Willow and Xander? How about Dawn?”

“I did. Will is always up for an adventure these days and Xander is still unsettled. He might like London better than the Big Apple. As for Dawn, she’s happy where she’s at as long as she gets to spend part of her summers and Christmas with me. Dad will have her close by for the rest of the time.”

He nodded and took a sip of the scotch. “How is Robin handling it?”

“He might have said something about handing in his resignation,” Buffy answered calmly before finally testing out the temperature of her hot cocoa and sipping some.

“That would be a big loss.”

“Which is why I offered him a role seeking out new Slayers and bringing them to the new academy we will be opening for training. When I spoke with Robson, we talked about leveraging one of the remote Council properties in Scotland to start up a school for Slayers and Watchers. I’ve appointed him to be the headmaster.”

Giles set his drink down and turned to her, his face reflecting his awe. “You never cease to amaze me.”

She smiled brilliantly at him. “Thank you.”

“You really are taking to this like the proverbial duck to water.”

“I needed the time away to think. Thank you for inviting me to stay.”

“Is this your way of telling me you will be leaving soon?”

“I made arrangements to fly out the day after tomorrow.” Buffy could tell he didn’t like that answer by the grim line in which he’d set his mouth. “The sooner I leave, the sooner I will be back,” she explained.

Picking up his drink, Giles settled back into the couch and finished the rest of the scotch. “True enough.” They were quiet for some time as she finished her cocoa, each watching the fire as it started to burn itself out.

“Since you are between consulting jobs, what is next for you?” Buffy asked conversationally. Now that Robin and Robson were definitely out, she hoped that Giles would rise to the bait and take the role she had proposed the first night she was there.

He shrugged. “I’ll continue my cross referencing, checking for various prophecies and portents as I’ve always done for you and wait for some gig to present itself.”

While she was disappointed that he had navigated his way around the subject, she recognized his declaration and took his hand in hers. A silent thank you. Despite him turning down the job, he’d just confirmed that he was still her Watcher and that he was still looking out for her, and that made her feel safe.

“Do you expect it to take long?”

“For a new contract?” He shook his head. “No, I’ve had some fairly high profile clients and word gets around.”

“Like the Archbishop of York?”

“Amongst others,” He answered with a nod, and moved her feet to stand. She watched him pick up the glass and mug and leave the room, indicating that it was time for bed. She sighed and moved to extricate herself from the quilt before walking over to the fireplace to slide the screen back in place. He returned from kitchen and stood in the doorway waiting for her, and she laced her fingers with his as she walked past him and led him up to the bedroom.

—————

Something was wrong. Buffy sensed it through the fog of sleep and forced herself conscious, only to find Giles propped up on his arm watching her. It was still dark, but she found his gaze immediately and held his green eyes with her own.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied as he reached out and tenderly moved a stray lock of hair from her face.

His touch was barely there as his fingers ghosted over her temple and ear, but it was enough to cause the stirrings of arousal in her. Tamping down the sensation, she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nothing to talk about.” His fingers combed through her hair and he continued tracing his fingertips over her neck and shoulder.

She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. He hadn’t touched her so intimately since the morning after she arrived. And while it had been she who had put a halt to sex - a boundary he’d respected and had not crossed - she’d nonetheless craved his touch over the last few days.

He leaned in and placed light kisses along her jawline, trailing his lips up to just below her ear. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

“No… I want you,” Buffy whispered as she ran her hand along his side.

He nuzzled her cheek with his nose before moving to claim her lips with his. She lost herself in his kiss as his left hand wandered her body, finding its way beneath the long sleeve shirt she’d been using as a pyjama top since the second night of her stay. His questing hands found her breasts and her body arched in response as he brushed his thumb over her nipple.

She broke the kiss with a sharp intake of air and pulled him over on top of her. He straddled her thigh and she could feel how hard he was through the flannel pants he wore as he moved his lips over her neck and nipped at her collarbone. She let out a squeak at the sensation and he laughed and attempted to make her repeat the noise as he nipped at her again.

“Sorry,” she giggled. “One time deal.”

Looking up at her, he smiled and leaned in to kiss her. “Sounds like a challenge,” he said as he grabbed her hands in his bigger one and held them over her head as he proceeded to try and find a spot that would make her cry out.

Buffy laughed and squirmed beneath him until finally he settled for the contented sigh she gave him as he kissed and sucked at her throat. “Feels so good,” she said. “God, how I love you.”

Giles jerked away from her quickly and stared at her in the dark, and she realized that she’d said that last bit out loud. The words had slipped from her subconscious, but she knew them to be true. There was no uncertainty anymore, and she understood the exact nature of her love for him. Only, guessing by the look in his eyes, it wasn’t the same feeling for him.

She sat up, pulled her shirt down, and reached for him, wanting to explain, but he avoided her grasp.

“I… I… can’t do this,” he stuttered as he moved off the bed and grabbed his robe from the chair.

“Giles-“

His face was shrouded in the shadows. “I… I’ll leave you to get some sleep. I’m sorry, Buffy.”

“No, I’m the one who is sorry.” Her voice was soft and meek. “But we need to talk.”

“In the morning,” he answered as he turned and walked out the door.

Buffy threw herself back against the pillow, cursing her stupidity. She tried to let it go and shake it off. In the morning she thought she might play it off as a heat of the moment thing. That she hadn’t meant it.

Only she had. And she wouldn’t lie to him. Not after everything that had happened. He deserved honesty. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

After tossing and turning for quite some time, she looked at the clock on the nightstand and blew out an exasperated sigh. “Four-thirty AM,” she muttered with exasperation. “Definitely morning.” Throwing off the duvet, Buffy grabbed a sweater from her suitcase and threw it on to ward off the chill before heading down to find Giles.

As expected, she located him in his study, head hanging over a book as he fiddled with the handle on his mug of tea.

“I think maybe we should talk,” she said quietly so as not to startle him.

He raised his head, his sad, tired eyes finding hers. “You should be sleeping.”

“So should you, although if I hadn’t said those words, we wouldn’t be sleeping now anyway.”

He looked away, his body language clearly telling her he was uncomfortable.

“I don’t expect you to say them back, Giles, especially if you don’t feel that way.” Buffy flopped down in the oversized leather chair facing the desk. “But I won’t take them back, either.”

“And I won’t take advantage of your feelings.” He said, lowering his head.

A sad smile tugged at her lips and she wrapped her arms around her small frame. “For the record, you haven’t taken advantage of them. I kinda just figured it out. I mean, I thought maybe after the desert motel, but chalked it up to a post apocalyptic emotional high. That’s one of the reasons why I came… to find out how I felt.”

Giles shifted in his seat. “The other reason to offer me a job I don’t want?”

Buffy noticed change of topic for what it was. He was steering away from the emotions. “I told you days ago that it was yours for the taking and I wouldn’t push. But I am curious as to why you won’t come back to the Council. I mean, you’re in good with the boss… and the pay is decent.”

He sighed and looked down at his hands. “Too many ghosts.”

“The old halls are gone, Giles, destroyed. They can’t haunt you.”

“It’s not a place, Buffy. It’s the idea. What the Council means…. to me, anyway.”

“Can you explain it to me?”

“The Council is… a symbol of my failure. I failed it early on when I ran away. I failed you… more times than I can remember and got you killed twice… Jenny… Karina…”

“My deaths…” she began. “Are _so_ not your fault. The first one was prophecy and the second one was due to a deranged hell god who decided to rip the fabric between dimensions open while trying to bleed out my sister. And each time, I chose to go face it, Giles. There was nothing you could do to stop it, though you tried. And Ms Calendar… Jenny… also not your fault. I unleashed Angelus and I couldn’t kill him when I had the chance. I can’t say I am sorry enough-“

“Buffy-“

“And as for Karina, we talked about this. Karina was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“I know!” he shouted, banging his fist on the table and making her jump. “I _know_ that! It’s not my fault that she is dead!”

“Then tell me, Giles. Tell me what all this guilt is about. You loved her. She loved you. I wish you could’ve had your happily ever after. You deserve that-“

“ _Stop!_ Just stop with your romantic notions of what my marriage was about! It was nothing like the fairytale you so desperately want to paint it as! Karina was _not_ my soulmate, nor was she my other half!” He lowered his voice and started again, “She was just someone I had connected with. Someone I could talk to… someone who made the dark days and even darker nights easier… less lonely. I didn’t love her… not like that anyway.” His confession done, he hung his head in shame.

“Then… why get married?” Buffy asked as she pulled herself inward in her confusion.

Giles stood and walked to the window, leaning against it with his forearm, his warm breath fogging up the glass. “Because I was selfish. Because I was having fun and being impulsive. I proposed in jest… as a response to some kindness she had shown at that moment, only she took it very seriously, and because of the way she reacted and the fact that we were having dinner with her friends, I couldn’t take it back without hurting her. I… I couldn’t break her heart. And I suppose… that selfish part of me believed that the loneliness would go away,” he explained. “She deserved so much better.”

“But… you were happy. In your engagement picture… I saw you. You loved her, Giles. Look at the picture again.”

Shaking his head, he turned to look at her. “I cared for her deeply, Buffy, but it never would have worked out. Our marriage would’ve lasted a year or two at most, but I couldn’t have stayed with her once I had truly figured it all out.”

“Figured what out?”

He looked out the window again. “What, ironically, her death helped me see so clearly.”

Several moments passed between them before she finally asked, “And what was that?”

Giles turned towards her, his eyes pleading. “Christ, Buffy, you cannot possibly be this naïve!” She blinked at him, trying to follow his emotional outburst. “I didn’t mourn her like I should’ve done! Not the way a husband should.” He closed his eyes as his jaw muscles worked beneath the taut skin before managing in a low whisper, “I didn’t mourn her the way I mourned you. I don’t miss her… like I missed… you.”

She stared at him, taking in his confession, trying to process it.

He brought his eyes up, catching hers. “I watched the Bringer slit her throat and my thoughts at that moment weren’t for her. They were for you. I feared for _you_.”

Buffy shook her head. “Shock… and… and… duty.”

“No,” he stated emphatically. “No. In that moment, it was clear.” He turned back towards the window and shoved his hands in his pockets.

They were surrounded by the last, quiet vestiges of night as dawn fought for light in the east.

She stood up and made her way over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder in support. “People get married for any number of reasons, Giles. At least you were friends and cared about each other. And she clearly loved you if she accepted your proposal so eagerly.”

“Leave it be, Buffy,” he sighed, walking over to the highboy and pouring himself a drink.

“Giles-“

“Dammit! Why can’t you just let it go? I am sorry I have ruined the illusion that marriage is the direct and inevitable conclusion of romantic love. Grow up! I’ll not have you pitying me or worse yet, making something noble out of my marriage. Karina was a dear friend and a wonderful lover. Nothing more.”

“But she was. She was your wife.”

“So much for the sanctity of marriage.” He raised his glass. “Cheers!” and threw back the scotch.

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“Why does this mean so much to you?”

“Forget it,” she said, moving towards the door. “Get drunk, sleep it off, and you can go back to feeling guilty and sorry for yourself when you wake up later today.”

“And you can continue to hide behind your sanctimonious attitude and run from your own issues,” he accused as she turned back around to face him. “I ask again. Why is it so damned important that Karina and I should have had the great Hollywood romance?”

“You know what? You’re right! It’s childish to think that there is gold at the end of the rainbow. That there might be a happily ever after, especially for people like us. That, god forbid, you might have loved someone and have someone love you in return, and been happy with her for a while, Giles.”

He sat down in the chair she had vacated, his voice raw from exhaustion, “I never said I was unhappy, Buffy. I said I wasn’t in love with her. I said I married her for selfish reasons. And I said that she deserved more than that.”

It was Buffy’s turn to inspect the outdoors through the window as the first fingers of golden sunlight spread out across the sky. She re-ran his confession in her mind, how he had reacted to Karina’s death versus her own. Giles had been _in_ love her, not his wife. He just hadn’t pieced it all together before then.

“I… I never wanted to be the other woman,” she stated as she pivoted back around to face him.

Finishing the last of his scotch, Giles set the glass down. “You weren’t,” he professed. “She was.”

In that moment, Buffy understood. “Think she knew?”

“Of course she did. How could she not?”

“Then why would she say yes?”

“I-I don’t know. Perhaps what we had was enough. It was for me… at least for a time.”

“None of us were sure I was going to be around for long. I didn’t want to be here.” she started. “God knows if I didn’t have Dawn, I would’ve walked into a cemetery and let a fledgling take me after you left.”

He looked at her, his eyes wide with regret at her disclosure. She met his gaze and they crossed the room, wrapping their arms around the other, holding each other as tightly as they could as they tried to push the pain away.

Buffy was the first to let go. She sniffed and wiped the tears away. “So what now?”

“Now?” He shrugged and pulled his glasses from his face before wiping them with his handkerchief. “Nothing, I suppose.”

“But… I love you,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

He shook his head, the look on his face regretful and apologetic. “I… I can’t… I-I am sorry.”

“Giles, it can be just us. You don’t have to work for the Council… like I said.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated miserably as he returned his glasses to his face.

Buffy stared at him in disbelief, trying to swallow around the sob that was rising in her throat. “You said… you said the other night that what we have… had… was more than what you had with Olivia. And this morning… more than what you had with Karina.”

“It is.”

“Do you still love me?”

They stood regarding each other, but he remained silent, the mask set in place once more, and she felt the ire churn in her stomach.

“Coward!” she ground out before storming out of the room and up the stairs to his room, slamming the door behind her as she broke down in tears.

—————

After crying herself to sleep, Buffy slept fitfully for four hours before giving up and heading for the shower. She’d made up her mind and decided to leave a day early. What was the point? Giles wasn’t joining the Council and he certainly wasn’t interested in a relationship with her - not a romantic one anyway - and she couldn’t sit around awkwardly with him for another twenty-four hours, pretending nothing happened.

It hurt too much.

She rose out of bed and quickly showered, dressed, and packed her bags. From the sanctuary of the bedroom, she called a cab. When she was ready, she grabbed her things and headed down to the front door and set them down before heading into the kitchen where she could comfortably watch for the taxi to come down the drive.

“You’re leaving,” he said flatly as he joined her in the kitchen.

“I figured it would be for the best.” Buffy heard the engine of the taxi as it pulled into the drive and walked to the front door where she put on her winter coat.

Giles followed her out. He looked miserable as he hunched his shoulders forward, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, and his pale green eyes red rimmed from lack of sleep.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” she replied sadly as she leaned in to kiss his cheek, one hand on the door handle. She opened the door when the driver approached. He took her bags and she turned once again to face her Watcher. “There’s a note…” She let any further explanation die and shook her head. “Bye, Giles.”

Barely holding it together, she crossed the threshold into the cold, winter air, strode across the drive, and climbed into the back of the taxi. As the driver pulled away, she let the tears fall once more.


End file.
